Emphasis
by dutiesofcare
Summary: The Doctor had been wrong about the solar flares. So wrong. In the Forest of the night AU


**A/N: This is set in an alternative universe where the Earth was really destroyed by the solar flare on In the Forest of the Night (8x10). I've been itching to write this for so long now, and I've finally did it.**

 **Disclaimer: None of the characters belongs to me.**

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The Doctor pulled his shaken companion away from the TARDIS door, away from the burning planet underneath them. _No,_ that wasn't supposed to happen, their day wasn't supposed to end in such a manner. He had been wrong before, _so many times,_ but his mistakes never had guilted him as much as in that moment.

 _His mistake broke her._

He could feel her weak beneath his touch, he could feel her holding onto him so tightly, for she knew she wouldn't be able to hold it together if she dared to let go of him. The memory of her home planet in flames was repeating itself over and over again in the back of her head, and she doubted she would ever be able to get rid of it.

Not that she really wanted to. Not when that was her _last_ insight of planet Earth.

Clara had no recollection of how she had gotten to the lounge room; her brain only kicked back to reality when the Doctor sat her down at the couch. Her lips were trembling like a loose leaf on the wind, and she felt her heart aching. _Her Earth_ was gone. Burned. Destroyed. Lasting only in hers and the Doctor's memory.

The last of the Time Lords wiped away the last of the Humans' tears, regardless if they were just followed by brand new. Most of them going unnoticed by her; she was numb. Out of synch with her own body. Her cheeks were as pale as a ghost, her eyes wide with both terror and shock.

 _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry_ , he would repeat, so many times, but he doubted she had been listening. Not because she _blamed him_ , but because her mind failed to process any incoming information. She was slowly and gradually dying inside.

The Doctor knew that feeling all too well. He saw himself on her own face features; he had been in her place such a long time before, and yet it was a wound imprinted into his soul, he carried it all around. He blamed himself and his careless for being the reason she would carry it, too.

And then, a loud sob dared to escape her slightly departed lips.

The Doctor moved closer to her, ignoring the possibility of her dreading to stay near the destroyer of worlds, the one who had scattered her home. Without asking for permission, he wrapped his arms around her head, bringing her closer to his chest, letting her cry against his magician coat.

 _I can hear them all, crying and screaming in panic,_ she would whisper in agony, her words barely making a sound. Her ears hurt, she wanted the voices to stop, but how could she silence seven billion voices burning down in a sea of pain, of terror and despair? Clara saw herself deserving of that sensation, for being the only one to survive. She _hated_ herself for being alive.

 _I hear them, too,_ The Doctor would utter, were it a lie or not. He felt her suffering, he _shared_ her suffering; he and she were one only. In his head, he too could hear all the voices of the people he had killed, people whose lives were ruined because of him. He _hated_ himself for being the poison of peace and the pioneer of terror.

She clung tightly her fingers onto the collar of his tee, looking at her reflection at the mirror of his eyes. Eyes that pierced the soul. They were dry, whereas hers were soaking wet. Their pupils were contracted in numbness, while hers were dilated in pain. They were blank, whilst hers were red and sored.

He wanted nothing more than to turn his glance away, but he couldn't. Her eyes were begging him to _take her back to before the flare, so she would die among the rest of her species,_ but he didn't have what it took to grant her wish. There was a fine difference between leaving her behind and taking her back to die.

 _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,_ he would cry, rocking her in his arms as she started to slightly shake, until she would lose control over her own body. She didn't know whether he was sorry about the destruction of her home or his refusal to _sign her death,_ so she assumed both. She couldn't blame him, but for once, she just wished he would do as he was told.

Clara was surprised when she felt two hot drops fall onto her scalp, but she wasn't stunned to see him finally giving in to the tears he tried to hard to keep inside. She knew why. Planet Earth was just home to him as it was to her. Her loss was his loss, too. She snuggled closer to him, attempting to provide him as much comfort as he did for her.

For, in that moment, they shared a soul.

She was scared, _what will happen to me next?_ Although they shared a memory, they didn't divide a body, a physiology. Unlike him, she was disposable, she would lose her youth and grow old, and her life aboard the TARDIS would end. She wouldn't blame him for getting rid of her, it would be more than reasonable. She just feared spending the rest of her short infinite life alone.

The Doctor buried his nose in her head, smelling her hair. His hand followed to her lower back, gently caressing her, randomly tracing lines with no meaning, but that, at the same time, said so much. _Together, Clara, you and I, until the end of times._

Clara swallowed hard, trying to calm her quivering self. She could hear the Doctor's heartbeats echoing through her ears, making way through the loud yells thumbing in her head. She felt tired; restless. Losing her world and all the people she ever cared for was like an emotional cascade descending down on her. Her dad. Her gran. Her best friend. Her students. Danny. All returned to the _earth_ they came from.

She closed her eyes, adjusting herself against his inhuman body. For a moment, she saw all the life that was just waiting for her.

She would, at first, endure some sleepless nights, accompanied by the stubborn tears that would make their way down her cheeks, until she would crawl up to the Doctor's bedroom, where he would rock her to sleep every night; no judging, just compassionating.

She would eventually move out from her room to his, not much to his knowledge, even less to his disapproval. She would drift off at last to some tune he was practicing in his guitar, or to the sound of his breathing as he devoured a book, or to his figure just lying next to her in bed.

She would, in the long run, learn how to cope with her loss. Never fully recovering from the pain, but knowing how to deal with it. She would, after a long state of anger, after the denial of her new rank as last standing Human, after the sorrow of all the lives vanished from existence, after lots of bargains to the universe to get them back, she would finally accept what she was and how she came to be.

She would reluctantly ask the Doctor to take her back in her time stream so she could at least say goodbye to her family, for she wanted one last memory of them imprinted into her mind, into her soul. He would take her there, without an objection, allowing her one last earthly request, because he knew it would be her last.

She would walk through new worlds, meet new people, save new planets that weren't doomed like hers. She would travel the universe, having the Doctor as her companion, spreading Human kindness across the stars. She would create an anamnesis of how great her kind had been, because the lies couldn't hurt her anymore.

She would give in to all the years of built sexual tension and kiss him, in a moment of both reckless and passion. He would kiss her back, despite of knowing it would eventually break his hearts, as he didn't have the luxury of living the rest of his life next to her, like she did to him. He would give her all his loving, receiving back all of hers.

She would make love to him like there was no tomorrow. She would make herself his as he would make himself hers. They would fight, they would make amends; she would throw herself in his arms, he would build a home out of his embrace. They would bend the universe beneath them.

She would carry his child inside her womb. Their hybrid. Half Human, half Time Lord, originated from the union of the last Earth girl and the last Gallifrey boy. A child that would be both blessed and cursed for who they were, but they would raise the kid by teaching the difference of right and wrong; teaching how to feel everything so deeply and yet manage to survive the day.

She would give birth to a girl, who she would name after her long gone mother. She would instruct her how to drive the TARDIS safely, whereas he would tell her to just throw in the die and let the TARDIS pilot her. The child would grow to be a mixture of their worst flaws and their greatest assets.

She would watch her become her father's daughter, being like him in every little aspect. The child would inherit her one heart and his regenerating capability, being Time Lord to the essence and Human to the soul. She would honor her mother's name while living her father's name.

She would turn old in the TARDIS, consorted by her daughter and her alien man, taking her to the most beautiful places, leaving her to rest whilst they were off to save some civilization. And they would come back telling her the stories, their words fulfilling what her eyes could no longer see.

She would die in the Doctor's arms, and they would drop some tears over her body. They would bring her back to Earth and bury her next to her mother's grave. From dust to dust.

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 **A/N: The writing here was something I had never done before, but personally I was pleaded with the result. Let me know what you think :)**


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